


Once You Know

by zcinmalik



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Bandits & Outlaws, Bodyguard Liam Payne, Curses, Friends to Lovers, Knight Liam Payne, Magic, Multi, OT5, Prince Zayn Malik, Protectiveness, Royal Zayn Malik
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-02
Updated: 2018-11-01
Packaged: 2019-08-14 12:35:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16492712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zcinmalik/pseuds/zcinmalik
Summary: "How did you know about the witch?""Much more boring, that one,” Niall says, shrugging. “The whole curse business is old news. Everyone knows your birthday is in two days. You’re just lucky we came across you before any unsavory types did—everyonewants to find you. They all think they’ll cure you and get a mountain of gold, or ransom you and get a mountain of gold, or slit your throat and replace you with a lookalike and get a mountain of–”“Niall!” Louis barks.





	Once You Know

**Author's Note:**

> This has been hanging over my head and in my drafts for literally forever (you can tell how old it is from everyone's hair). I have an outline, but I have no idea if/when I'll be able to finish it. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

A cold wind bursts through the tavern as the front door creaks open and three men enter through it. Zayn turns away from a disapproving Liam to look curiously at the group, the scarf that covers his nose and mouth blocking most of his face from the wind that assails it.

The first thing to catch his eye is a shock of artificially blond hair, belonging to a young man with a bard’s lute strapped to his back. He’s got a wide grin and startlingly blue eyes. On his left is a boy whose face is framed by his long brown curls, blowing haphazardly from the wind that chased them in. He’s tall and broad, but the signs of lanky boyhood are still visible in his slender legs. To the right of the bard stands another brunette, this one with sharp, striking features and a slightly more reckless look about him.

Zayn continues to openly stare at the men as they cross to the bar, taken in by their novelty as much as by their handsomeness.

“Pretty enough to be noblemen, aren’t they?” he asks Liam lowly, finally turning back after a few long moments to address him.

Liam rolls his eyes. “Yes, and it’s that type of prettiness that probably makes them excellent highwaymen.”

Zayn straightens in his chair with excitement. “You really think they’re–?”

“That’s not a good thing, Zayn!” Liam tries to chide. It’s funny how much he’s attempted to adopt a more responsible and mature tone in the past day because of the circumstances. Zayn can see Liam even now biting back a smile, trying to stifle his own thrill at the idea of having a run-in with a group of bandits. It’s just like one of the stories they read as kids.

Before Zayn can say anything else, he’s surprised to see the three men walking toward the table where they’re sitting. He raises his eyebrows at Liam, a conspiratorial gesture that Liam sighs at, and turns toward the group as they arrive to stand next to him.

“Forgive us for interrupting,” the one with the long hair says. He dimples charmingly, turning to Liam. “My companions and I were struck by your beauty–” Liam suddenly blushes with an intensity Zayn hasn’t seen in some time, as Harry turns toward Zayn and adds, “–and felt quite sure that you must be just as lovely beneath your scarf.”

Zayn feels his grin slip, not that anyone can notice it. Being reminded why he has to hide his identity makes it harder to think of anything besides–

“Might we join you, then?” the blond asks hopefully.

Liam, seeming to sense Zayn’s sudden mood change, and always aware of the time, begins, “Actually, we–”

“Excellent,” the sharp-faced boy says, and unceremoniously drags a chair from another table to theirs, plopping himself down. Liam glares and opens his mouth to retort, but the boy is already speaking. “Louis at your service. This is Niall and Harry.” He nods at the blond and the charmer respectively as they themselves pull up seats, to Liam’s visible annoyance.

“Well, we–”

“You haven’t told us your names,” Niall points out brightly, reaching across the table to casually take a drink from the glass in front of Zayn.

Zayn glances at Liam, then quickly mutters, “Vernon.”

“And Leroi,” Liam adds unconvincingly. He really is a terrible liar, despite how much they practiced this last night.

Harry exchanges amused glances with his companions, grins a little too knowingly, and asks, “Vernon and Leroi? Really?”

Both Zayn and Liam tense in their seats.

“Yeah, what of it?” Liam asks, a bit too aggressive. Zayn can tell that he’s close to becoming panicked.

“Nothing,” Niall reassures quickly. He grins mischievously. “It’s just… well, if we’re being honest, we thought you boys might come up with better names. That’s all.”

In the next instant, Zayn and Liam are up and out of their seats, Liam with his sword in hand. Before they can start running, though, Louis reaches up, seizes Zayn around the waist, and pulls him down, hard, into his lap.

Zayn starts struggling, trying to extricate himself from Louis’ grip, but before he can, Louis is holding a small knife to his throat. He freezes, Louis’ free arm still wrapped tight around his body.

Liam is staring, horrified, from where he had started to lunge forward but has now, himself, frozen. Niall and Harry are stood on either side of him, warily eyeing his sword but clearly ready to advance on him if necessary.

“Drop your sword and nothing bad has to happen to the prince, Sir Liam,” Louis says calmly. His words turn Zayn’s blood to ice even as the warmth of his breath on Zayn’s ear almost makes him wonder what it would be like to be sitting in this position in another circumstance. He shakes himself out of the thought with disgust.

“Let me go,  _now,_ ” he insists loudly.

Louis ignores him. “Quickly, Sir Liam, we don’t have all day.”

Liam glares and slowly lowers his sword to the table in front of him, where Harry takes it up.

Desperate, Zayn abandons any attempts to remain incognito and starts to shout. “Please, someone help, we’re being–”

“Shh,” Louis murmurs, his knife edging closer to the thin cloth covering Zayn’s skin. Liam watches helplessly, his hands formed into fists at his sides. “You picked the wrong tavern, darling.”

Sure enough, as Zayn glances around as much as he can without moving, he realizes that the other patrons and the bartender are going about their business as though nothing is happening. His heart sinks. 

“Please,” he says, “Please just let Liam go. He has nothing to–”

“I’m not going _anywhere_ ,” Liam insists, even as Niall gently shoves him back into his chair.

“Nobody’s going anywhere,” Louis agrees. “At least not until you’ve both listened to our proposal.”

Zayn shivers at the feeling of Louis’ lips brushing his ear, but comes back to himself when the words process. “Proposal?” 

* * *

 

The inn room is a rather nice one, but no amount of warmth could make up for the tension among the five boys sitting around its dining table.

“Absolutely not,” Liam says flatly, before Zayn has even opened his mouth to reply.

Louis catches Zayn’s small, uncertain movement, and his eyes light up with triumph. He turns his gaze back to Liam and replies, “Are you sure that’s how your prince feels about it?”

“How he feels about highway robbers threatening him, holding him against his will, and then suggesting that _they_ should escort him to the witch?” Liam barks. “I don’t care _what_ he feels about that. It’s not happening.”

“ _B_ _andits_ ,” Harry corrects under his breath.

Before anyone else can respond (and Liam is fit to start yelling by the look on his face), Zayn asks, “How much?”

The bandits exchange looks. “How much…?” Niall leads uncertainly.

Zayn suppresses an eye-roll only through the virtues of lifelong practice in diplomacy.

“How much do you want in exchange for escorting us to the witch? Since we’re so _obviously_ helpless and vulnerable.” He can’t help but bitterly repeat the words that the bandits had used to describe them. Zayn feels like he should have known that this would happen, incognito mission or not.

It was one thing to be so easily snatched by some small gang. It was another to have been recognized as the prince by nothing more than the sheath of Liam’s sword. It was an entirely different thing (and somehow the most annoying one) to be lectured about how simple it had been to catch them, and how a couple of “soft palace-types” really shouldn’t be wandering around the rough cities of the kingdom without escorts.

“Oh,” says Niall, his eyes widening the slightest bit. “Well, we–”

“Zayn!” Liam protests.

Louis leans closer to Zayn and stage whispers, “First name basis? This one might need to be put on a tighter leash, Highness.”

“Louis,” Harry reproaches. “Stop teasing. The prince asked us a question. How much do we want?”

"A hundred thousand gold pieces each," Louis says promptly. 

Liam sputters. "That's completely–"

Zayn extends a hand to Louis. 

* * *

 

“ _Don’t_ make that face,” Louis snaps the moment he’s closed the door. He turns and glowers in Niall’s direction. Niall scoffs, half amused and half offended. He tries to share a commiserating look with Harry, but Harry is pointedly standing on the other side of the bed, digging into his bag and looking vaguely, unconvincingly busy.

“What face are you on about?”

“You complained last time we stole a gem off a lord. You complained when I took bread from the farmer, a knife from a soldier–”

“Hey now, he was practically a kid,” Niall protests.

“Who _cares_?” Louis says.

“Well, you’re being ridiculous. It’s not like I didn’t help. You couldn’t’ve pulled off any of those without me.”

“This is a major step up for us.” Louis takes two steps forward, and Niall raises his chin. “I don’t need you crying over it while we try to pull this one off.”

“Who’s crying?” Niall says, his voice hard. “Seems to me like maybe you’re the one getting cold feet, the way you’re going on about it.”

Louis gapes for several long moments of silence, and Niall allows himself a smirk. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Harry’s shoulders moving the smallest bit with silent laughter. 

“You’re mad,” Louis says finally. “Just don’t go getting attached. They’d sooner hang you than look at you.” With that, he turns on his heel, stomps to the corner of the room where his knives are, and busies himself sharpening one. 

* * *

 

“So how’d you know?” Zayn asks. The horses are making a good pace, and the sun has only just started to rise, breaking through the gray mist that hangs over the morning.

Niall, Louis, and Harry all snort with laughter. Zayn frowns, glancing back and forth among them, leaning forward to catch the half of Louis’ face he can see from up ahead on the trail.

“What?”

“‘So how’d you know?’ he asks.” Harry puts on a not-very-accurate accent that Zayn can only guess is an attempt to mimic him. “When you talk like that, ride a horse like that. Your posture alone.”

“Now, be fair, Harry,” Niall says, flashing a grin at Zayn’s confused expression. “If it weren’t for his bodyguard, he could’ve been _any_ old runaway royal.”

From his position on Zayn’s immediate right, Zayn can see Liam tense and reign in his horse the smallest bit.

“But like we told you,” Harry adds, picking up from Niall seamlessly. “Your boy’s sword over there–”

“That sheath! The hilt!” Niall shoots a wicked look at Liam, whose skin is now turning pink in the early morning light.

“ _That_ belongs to a _knight_.” Harry leans forward to try and catch Liam’s eye, and even Liam has picked up on the innuendo, if Liam’s sudden aversion to looking at anything but his horse’s head is anything to go by.

“A strong, brave knight, whose sole duty is to–”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Zayn interrupts Niall, trying to hold back his laughter and spare Liam further embarrassment. “Stop rubbing it in. I meant, how did you know about the witch?”

“Oh, that,” Harry says, sitting up again.

Niall coughs.

“Much more boring, that one,” he says, shrugging. “The whole curse business is old news. Everyone knows your birthday is in two days. You’re just lucky we came across you before any unsavory types did— _everyone_ wants to find you. They all think they’ll cure you and get a mountain of gold, or ransom you and get a mountain of gold, or slit your throat and replace you with a lookalike and get a mountain of–”

“Niall!” Louis barks.

“What? It’s the truth!”

Liam has already reached over and seized Zayn’s reins from his hands, pulling both of their horses to a sharp halt.

“Liam–” Zayn starts appeasingly.

Harry reigns his own horse in, barely avoiding clashing with Zayn and Liam. “You’ve spooked them, Nialler.”

“Which part of any of that was new information to anyone here?” Niall demands. He’s half turned his mount to face them. Louis has done the same further ahead, shooting an exasperated look at the whole group.

“Listen,” Louis says, resting his gaze on Liam. “We’d be fools to try anything, never mind tell you about it before we did. You know better than anyone how many of the king’s knights are out there right now looking for him. Do you think they’d stop to ask any questions if they found us with his body? Hell, do you think they’d stop to ask any questions if they found us all together right now, with not a scratch on him? Or do you think me and mine would get arrows in our heads for the trouble of trying to help?”

Zayn sighs. He could have told Louis that, reasonable as his words were, they wouldn’t please Liam. Sure enough, Liam straightens up, tightening his grip on the reins, and says through gritted teeth, “His majesty’s knights don’t execute on a whim. They would never–”

“Liam,” Zayn says. He reaches over the space between them and takes his reins back. Liam tenses as though to fight him for a moment, but Zayn didn’t spend all those years arm wrestling with him for nothing—he grips the straps hard in his hand and gives Liam a look.

Reluctantly, Liam lets go.

“Niall is right,” Zayn says, loosening his grip and allowing his horse to take a few steadying steps away from Liam’s. “We all already know what might happen. It’s worth the risk. And you know very well you’re the only knight I trust, Liam. Now let’s get to the witch.”

Zayn spurs his horse forward, and Louis has already turned around to continue leading the way.


End file.
